Blog Posts - Wisdom in Waves

Dear Dr. Ford

10/1/2018

If you resonate with this and are inspired to share, please do so. Thank you for reading.

*****

Dear Dr. Ford,

I don’t know if you will ever read this, but release this into the world with kind intentions.

Today I listened to a talk that inspires this letter. Despite all the free floating anger, fear, and hurt out there searching for the “correct” feeling or action, where is a safe harbor for solace, for rest? Can I trust the heart?

https://www.dharmaseed.org/teacher/305/talk/52331/

As I was hiking at Foothill Park, wild deer and turkeys came closer than they ever have before. For a few brief moments of silence, safety, kindness and peace were possible.

It took so much courage and trust to share your shadow experience in the present light of today’s political climate. In many ways, these are very dark times. Still, you stepped forward with deep vulnerability, speaking for the violated teenager who’s life would never be the same again.

In my eyes and heart, you are a true heroine. Regardless of the outcome, your voice has spoken for countless beings ashamed and silenced by sexual assault, violence, and abuse of any kind. I measure this victory not by whether Judge Kavanaugh joins the Supreme Court or not, but by the number of beings who can now step forward to reinhabit a body of truth. Despite previous violations, may these bodies heal to wholeness, and feel safe again. May your body and the body of all your relations heal to wholeness, and feel safe again.

With Gratitude and Kindness,

Kaveri

PS. Am also sending kind wishes to the other side. This heart is trying to include all...

Dear Piriformis Muscles

9/23/2018

Dear Piriformis Muscles,

I hear the burning call of anger
The quivering fear with each step
Disappointment and impatience asking
Where do we go from here?

I’m sorry I mistrusted you
Left you all alone
When you needed me most
Needed someone to understand

I’m here for you
For as long as the healing takes
Here to hold you, support you
Grateful for your special part

In keeping this body whole

For the last month, I’ve heard the burning call of anger, the quivering fear with each step, disappointment and impatience asking, “Where do we go from here?”.

Eleven years of mindfulness and compassion practices weren’t enough. I needed help. “Help me understand what I’ve forgotten, what I need to know now!”

Who was I calling out to, and why wasn’t self-compassion working?

As the piriformis muscles continued to burn and ache with each step, I turned to supportive family, wise friends, and healers who might help me remember. This is what I discovered.

Honesty. I can’t heal what I can’t feel. I’m so used to having a plan, knowing the answer, using spiritual practice to bypass what’s asking for direct attention here and now. Why feel if I know what will heal? The problem with this logic is that I can’t possibly know what will heal, until I’m honest about the anger, fear, disappointment, and impatience present. Until I’m really willing to listen to them, let them be as they are, and show me what is standing behind them. They are not roadblocks to compassion, but doorways.

This is what I’m feeling right now. It’s OK. It’s not bad or wrong. There’s space for these feelings.

Compassion. Compassion is the softest thing I know that cushions the hard edges of reality. It’s what I often use to shield my heart against the extra arrows of self-judgement. It’s easier to practice compassion for someone else who is suffering, and feels selfish, self-indulgence to include myself in the circle of compassion. Over the years, self-compassion became the parent, partner, best friend I was seeking, the ally who never let me down.

I care about this pain. Others have bodies that break down and disappoint them, too. It’s not my fault.

Patience. I’m still surprised by how often I use self-compassion to bargain with life. Look, I’m being gentle and kind. Why is the burning, aching sensation still here? Why do I still feel stiff like the Tin Man? Isn’t self-compassion the oil needed to lubricate this stiffness so I can move pain free? Patience asks me to wait, to let the answers come in geological time. Sometimes, I’m not sure I can wait that long, but am always surprised and humbled by the outcome when I surrender to the elements that shape each and every experience.

This won’t last forever. Everything changes. May I be patient with the impatience.

Gratitude. When physical, emotional pain strike, it’s like a large, dark stain on a beautiful dress, a hole in a perfect picture, the uninvited guest to a party. Help! Bring my old life back! The negativity bias deletes all memories of these piriformis muscles supporting the birth of a beautiful child almost thirteen years ago, meditation and yoga postures that have offered profound joy and peace, hikes that have brought me closer to the womb of the Divine Mother than ever before.

Thank you for carrying this body, for supporting each brave step as best as you can into the future unknown.

Trust. If old age, sickness and death are inevitable who or what can I trust? Why even try to celebrate the 10,000 joys if sorrow is just around the corner, waiting to shadow the light? I’m not sure there is a simple answer to these questions. For me, it’s a partner who wonders what I am trying to prove, recommending I take Advil and rest the body that is being pushed to continue the elliptical and yoga stretches despite obvious signals of discomfort. It’s a teenage daughter who offers glimpses of care and concern by gently patting my behind despite raging hormones and peer conditioning. It’s a mother who cooks and offers to do the dishes when she sees me wincing in pain. It’s a friend who recommends a gentle chiropractor because she knows what I want in a healer. It’s other friends who offer up compassionate listening presence like the sweetest dessert when I have forgotten how to offer it to myself. It’s a chiropractor who alleviates my fears by reminding me of the body’s intuitive capacity to heal itself. It’s Qigong helping to move stagnant energy and encourage flow. It’s wild turkeys on a hike reminding me that life still goes on, a dim sun with so much potential to burn through the fog with love, the Great Mother promising to always be there no matter how this body ages or whether I have direct access to Her.

The people, places in my life will come and go, but there will always be someone, something to remind me of what matters most.

May this reflection inspire all beings everywhere without exception. May we learn to stay with our own experience, so we can support others on their healing journey.

Snapshots of Unconditional Love

8/27/2018

I couldn’t love her the way she needed to be loved. I couldn’t support the last three months of her life as the cancer was slowly invading her digestive tract, pancreas, and lungs the way a bad nightmare does, except she never got to wake up.

I was too busy being angry and hurt over sibling dynamics, feeling invisible, outfitting her with a traditional standard I had come to despise. It was easy to conveniently forget her safe escort on three different buses we needed to take to and from the orthodontics office, the way she would tear her old Indian saris and sew them into long skirts because she knew I loved them, the house filled with the scent of masala 24/7 so we would never starve while growing up.

Why was I still hungry?

*****

We honored the 5-year anniversary of her death through puja. I was drawn to the diya like a moth to a flame, singing with a fervency during the arti that felt misplaced. Who was this 45-year-old woman child hearing her mother singing, seeing her soul, her name in the sacred fire?

Who was the sister blaming her brother for distance and insensitivity, blaming herself for deficiency and vulnerability?

*****

A few days later in yoga practice, I felt intuitively called to listen to one of my favorite bhajans. A torrential downpour of emotion flooded the mat. I was grieving all the things I expected of Mummy, all the blocks to loving her just as she was. There was no dam to hold anything back, nothing between me and this moment.

Forgiveness was palpable both ways.

*****

She’s lacing up her black Converse, noticing a brown mark on one side of a shoe. She stands to retrieve a wet washcloth to wipe the shoes she is so proud of.

I comment on the mark. Maybe it’s a scuff from my sandal the other day as we were walking to the library. She glares at me with that entitled teenage look, punishing with silence and a hug withheld before biking off to school.

“I let you go with love”, I call out cheerfully. “You know where to find me!”

*****

We think we have forever with loved ones, a lifetime to heal a suffocating heart that can barely breathe.

Can we compassionately bow to each thought, feeling and sensation sculpted from the cycle of dependent origination into a solid self? Can we be patient with practice, trust wise teachers, good friends, and tenderness to slowly crack the plaster open?

Opening to vulnerability is not natural. It takes so much courage and support. I carry these verbal snapshots of unconditional love like passages from the holy books, knowing things will change.

The plaster will harden with conditional love and soften with practice again.

Note:

puja: a prayer ritual performed by Hindus of devotional worship to one or more deities, or to host and honor a guest, or one to spiritually celebrate an event

diya: an oil lamp used in the Indian subcontinent, notably India and Nepal, usually made from clay, with a cotton wick dipped in ghee or vegetable oils

arti: a Hindu religious ritual of worship, a part of puja, in which light from wicks soaked in ghee (purified butter) or camphor is offered to one or more deities

bhajan: any song with religious theme or spiritual ideas, in a regional South Asian language

Cycle of Dependent Origination: A chain of causes which result in rebirth and dukkha (suffering). By breaking the chain, liberation from suffering can be attained.

The In Between Place

8/23/2018

What is this in between place
where the darkness has not yet dissipated,
and the light is still far away-
unpleasant thoughts, feelings, sensations
clouding the moment and passage
to freedom on the other side?
Give me a pass, a spiritual bypass
to get the hell out of here quickly.
It’s not safe; there is nothing to see.

What if I stayed awhile, ripped
up the plane ticket and just noticed
the bags half packed, the warm clothes
of compassion, patience and trust
still hanging in the closet,
the gentle invitation to be with what’s here
one minute, one hour, one day at a time?
Could I be carried slowly by an invisible
benevolence to the other side?

The dawn is breaking, a light shining through.
Is it truly morning, a heart awakening,
reaching the other side?
Does it really matter?
Deep bows to the in between place
for supporting this inquiry, this journey
that’s not as linear as I once thought,
but a meditative spiraling into the unknown
for purification over perfection,
for freedom instead of false promises,
for something that can’t be seen
but is deeply felt till it’s ready
for the sacred unveiling.

Wind & Fire

8/16/2018

Marriage Mandala

I’ve waited my whole life for you
to say the right words,
to woo me with poetry
and an instrument to play
the song in my heart
that I sing to myself
when the world misunderstands.

How could I have missed
the gentle intimacy,
the drunken look in your eyes,
palms pressed in Namaste
to the sacred feminine flame,
the humble bow to your consort
in all her many moods?

Let’s circle the fire like we did long ago-
no one leading, no one following,
the earth bearing witness,
the air surrounding us offering
space to move as we must,
tears of frustration and joy marking
each brave step into the unknown.

Just when you think your partner isn’t looking, listening, or understanding, look again. Listen. Patiently wait for understanding based on cellular memories of gratitude. Memories of disappointment and deficiency will just weigh you down and induce amnesia for the sacred.

There is no such thing as a fairytale relationship, romantic or not. The grass is always greener in a movie, a book, or someone else’s story. For me, the magic occurs inside the heart mandala when all the moving parts invite me to look, to listen, and be patient for understanding.

I don’t always like the entangled pattern I see. The elements of earth, air, fire and water ask me to wait, to feel their presence internally and externally till the pattern alchemically transforms into something I recognize but didn’t trust before due to past conditioning.

The emerging pattern cuts through greed, hatred, and delusion with fierce compassion, gentle wisdom. All moving parts begin to settle.

The elements of wind and fire are strong in me. How do I not blow past and burn everything in the way? How do I allow the neurotic wind in this breath to be carried to the place it needs to be, rather than striving to get there? How can this passionate fire for practice burn with wise discernment?

Intuition, lead the way…

Enter the Mandala of Dakini Wisdom

7/25/2018

Everything is welcome in the circle-
warmed by the sun, cooled by the moon
spiraling in, then ambling out,
the labyrinth of transformation never linear.
She dances, dripping the blood
of womb wisdom with each step,
the seed of creation born
from misogynistic misunderstanding.
This is a brave new world where
ancient ways are not murdered
but nurtured inside the mandala,
till a dakini can speak with fierce precision
and act with exquisite compassion.

After attending a daylong with Llama Tsultrim Allione based on her book, Wisdom Rising: A Journey into the Mandala of the Empowered Feminine, I felt a uterine contraction calling to write this. With all that is going on externally (Trump’s presidency) and internally (feeling the damage to the earth and each other), I need a safe container, a sacred circle where everything, all emotions are welcome.

There is sudden and clear recognition that the path of healing is not linear, but like walking a labyrinth, spiraling in then ambling out. To arrive at the center of wise understanding, one must cultivate patience, allow the experience to gestate within till a seed is born from misogynistic misunderstanding.

This is a brave new world where ancient ways can inform us, energize us to speak with fierce precision and act with exquisite compassion.

A Conversation with Silence

7/19/2018

My dear,

You are safe now. There is nothing to fear. No one to blame. You know what is coming. There are no surprises. Sickness, aging, death. Compassion, beauty, joy.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the story line. Who are the characters? Where does it happen? How and why? Do the details matter that much?

What do you want to remember most? Is it worth the energy to even hold on to these words? Can you let them go, trusting they will return to you in some form: a conversation, a feeling, an image you can’t explain right now but intuitively sense has great meaning?

I have never hidden any part of this Great Mystery from you. You see what you need to see, hear what you need to hear. You aren’t missing out on anything. You are who you are, where you are because it’s where you need to be. There are no accidents.

Trust me on this one. Have I ever disappointed you? Lean into the moment. What would it mean to surrender to the waves?

Would you drown?

Or could you float?

*****

I see you, Mara as doubt in her dreams, as dukkha during the day. She doesn’t need to stay small, sad, scared. She is free, for now. When enough nows add up to eternity, she will be free forever.

Love and Ego at the Center

6/28/2018

What she said, what she did really pissed me off. The precept, ‘knowing that our lives intertwine, I vow to speak only what it true, useful and kind‘ felt like a distant memory. Years of painful conditioning begged for release. I wanted to hurt her.

What I really wanted was for her to be conscious, for intimacy in this relationship to be built on something stronger than the ego.

*****

In The Yoga of Relationship, Phillip Moffitt describes three types of relationships: ego at the center, love and ego at the center, and love at the center. Though the model describes romantic relationships, I see how it applies to all relationships – family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, challenging folks, EVERYONE.

I immediately recognize the first type of relationship with this being. For years, the heart has diligently practiced metta for her. I know she is overwhelmed by insecurity, her actions inspired by the promise of ego belonging. It’s why we collide like asteroids so many times, instead of orbiting each other’s celestial being in awe.

May you feel a sense of belonging without the need to criticize others.

I yearn for the second type of relationship where love is also brought into the center with ego. For years, the heart has also practiced metta for this writer. I want to move beyond sense doors that trigger past hurt – sights and sounds that constrict the heart to hurt more and love less.

May I speak my truth with kindness.

“When love and ego are at the center, you are not abandoning or martyring yourself. Instead, you are giving up certain expectations, which means that your relationship to the energy of love is not dependent on your partner (or other being).”

Can I appreciate this being’s cycle of dependent origination causing her to connect mainly through comparison over compassion? Can I renounce certain expectations, so that my relationship to love is not dependent on her? Can this relationship be built on Metta (lovingkindness), Karuna (compassion), Mudita (joy), Upekkha (equanimity), where the heart is not just a welcome doormat easily stepped on, but a heavenly abode that opens to love’s possibility when feeling resourced and safe?

*****

What she said, what she did still pisses me off. The hurt is less. Wanting her to be more conscious, I turn inward, asking citta (heart-mind) for intimacy in this relationship to be built on something stronger than the ego, for the Brahmaviharas to hold us both.

(May the benefits of this practice be shared by all beings who struggle in relationship, all beings yearning for conscious connection.)

Metta for the Aspiring One

6/13/2018

May i be patient with who I’ve always wanted to be
and love who i already am,
be gentle with raised shoulders and tense belly,
diaphragm a little stuck
so that perfect note in singing is never sustained,
the lap across the pool only halfway.
May I rise from early morning dreams of doubt
with tenderness, with pause,
Rumi’s fingers on the brow, inscriptions on the heart
for the breezes at dawn that have secrets to tell me
asking for what i really want,
making my way to the bathroom mirror
greeted by crooked windows,
right eye higher than the left,
forecasting a day with a best friend
or constant critic.
May I read the poetry of Billy Collins, Mary Oliver,
the Sufi poets with wonder,
and feel kinship over competition,
see life’s pages larger than a book
with room for only rave reviews.
May I respect the healer who holds space for others
and sometimes runs away,
the mother who is a safe harbor
and the tsunami that destroys it,
the lover who builds communication bridges
and clings to one side, assuming she is right.
May zafu and yoga mat hold this confused being
till all the tears have fallen,
and clenched fists open in surrender
to all I’ve ever wanted to be,
to the one sitting all these years,
the aspiring one who already is.

(May i rest before the next I says hello
Asking why i am not ready…)

Waking Up to the Love That is Here - Reflections from Retreat

6/9/2018

Thank you DoriMa and Kairos House Sangha for shaping my experience and heart. May the metta force field protect us all.

*****

Day 1

No one in the driver’s seat
Ignition empty of keys
Car is parked right here
Where every journey begins

The words tiptoe into consciousness at five something am the morning I leave for Spokane. A retreat will begin today with Dori Ma and the Kairos House Sangha, “Waking up to the Love That is Here”.

At breakfast my partner asks what number I am in line for boarding the Southwest flight. A momentary “oh, oh” lodges in the belly. I never forget the boarding pass. Never. It’s either forgetfulness, feeling too relaxed, or something else.

Holding on to a pass labeled C18, I’m skeptical of Southwest employees allowing a large backpack containing a zafu, an oblong rolled up yoga mat, and a medium sized purse to be carried by one person on to the plane. But no one says anything.

Surprise shifts to surrender. I have no idea what will happen in the next moment. I may be asked to check in something, or not. Boarding the plane, there’s a seat in between two folks in the fourth row on the left hand side. The overhead bin has space for the large backpack. Yoga mat and purse keep my feet company beneath the seat in front of me.

Grateful for having an inspiring conversation with a Nigerian American Uber driver about diversity, politics, history, and his family on the drive to the airport, as well as a Caucasian man born and raised in the Bay Area now retired and living an exciting, unplugged, retired life in Montana’s company before the flight, I’m waking up to the love that is here.

Day 2

A story is shared in the morning practice session of a Buddha statue in Asia covered in plaster. One day a monk detected a crack, a glimmer of light from within. The Gold Buddha was encased in plaster to protect invaders over centuries from stealing it.

How is my True Nature encased in greed, hatred, delusion? A subtle aversion has surrounded this heart. Comparing Mind takes note of the bathroom, my room, the food, the meditation space, fellow yogis on retreat. This isn’t DPP6. This isn’t Spirit Rock.

In a morning sit, I trace the aversion back to Spokane Airport where I first landed yesterday. I was looking for some colored fish in a sea of white foam to feel a sense of belonging.

No wonder I’m feeling like a fish out of native Sangha waters. I may be the only POC here.

*****

We take the five precepts together. Knowing that our lives are intertwined, I vow to protect all life. This particular precept thins the aversion. The heart quivers. A few tears fall. What do I vow to protect?

I carry the inquiry into walking meditation. Black flies buzz and attempt bites at the nape of the neck and hairline. I want to protect all life, not just a few precious humans, cute and pretty creatures. Even black flies.

Choosing a different walking path close by, there are still a few black flies hovering, buzzing, waiting. I do my best to gently, lovingly brush or blow them away as another yogi catches my eye.

She is walking with hands cupping both sides of the head and neck. The mudra (gesture) holds both the black flies and herself in a circle of Metta. Brilliant idea!

Citta feels an immediate kinship with her. Heart connections are reinforced through exchange of well wishes with other yogis throughout the day. This isn’t DPP6 or Spirit Rock. It’s the Kairos House Sangha in Spokane, Washington detecting a crack in the aversion plastered around this heart, Metta emerging from within.

*****

The day ends with a dedication of merit, palms open to catch late spring petals of today’s practice. The petals are pressed in prayer book palms closing together with heads humbly bowed. May hands open to share these soft petals with loved ones at home, with every being we meet, especially when we forget.

Day 3

Good morning sweetheart. I love you. Loving presence is always with you.

I’m accepting the invitation offered yesterday to practice waking up with Metta as the first thought of the day.

The morning is overcast, wet. Rain fell overnight, moistening the earth for growth. Setting the first Metta intentions for the day in meditation and Qigong practice (and maybe beyond), may I meet all experience with kindness and love. May the earth, all her creatures, be loved and respected.

That’s a tall order. Is that even possible? Her whispers dispel doubting thoughts. I see Her in a frog, a slug, black-eyed susans and pine trees on a morning walk. I hear her in birds chirping, the wind-breath of the Spokan silenced long ago, voices still audible to those willing to listen, the clanking of cutlery against bowls and dishes as yogis partake of Her bounty at breakfast.

She is best friend, advocate, wise advisor, the kind voice and loving energy that pulses through all life.

Can I see Her, hear Her in all?

*****

It’s time to practice Metta for a neutral being, someone who doesn’t invoke a strong like or dislike in us. Examples are offered of who this neutral being could be. I resonate with the example of the garbage collector.

Closing the eyelids, I picture all the larger vehicles I typically pass on the way to work: trucks carrying groceries or goods, school buses carrying children, para transit vans carrying disabled persons to appointments. The Metta phrase comes naturally for the drivers of these vehicles:

May your load be carried with ease.

Their response surprises me.

May you be patient with our load.

Before I know it, motorcyclists and bicyclists are appearing on this meditation drive. Wait a minute! You all aren’t carrying a big load. You’re weaving in between lanes and may get side-swiped in a driver’s blind spot. You’re running stop signs and red lights.

Maybe their load is hidden. Fear of being late to work and losing a job. Distracted by a troubled relationship causing them to take dangerous risks. A life of invincibility untouched by loss.

Neutral beings transform into difficult beings, specific individuals in my life who are hard to forgive.

The heart stretches a bit.

May your load be carried with ease.

Their response encourages me.

May you be patient with our load.

*****

The heart is primed to send blood rich Metta to difficult ones. Can I do this? So much anger, fear and hurt. Anything is possible sensing South Asian Panther aka Bhaiya by my side, an ally who easily reflects my True Nature.

*****

Good night sweetheart. I love you. Loving presence is always with you.

I’m accepting the invitation offered yesterday to practice going to sleep with Metta as the last thought of the day.

Day 4

My greatest wound is abandonment, umbilical chord not only severed at birth, but figuratively falling off the face of Mother Earth. Unwanted child, knocking on the doors of several hearts, begging for love. Who will take me in? Who will understand?

In Qigong, we polish the stone. Another Metta phrase spontaneously arises. May I polish the heart stone to uncover my True Nature. Reversing directions, may you polish the heart stone to uncover your True Nature.

A flash of insight. The heart stone sparkles in sunlight. How did I not see this before?

Wherever you are standing,
sitting, walking, or lying down,
the earth knows,
cradling feet, sits bones, back, head.
Wherever you are
with friend or foe,
why worry about safety?
You are Metta
embodied,
getting curious, asking questions,
seeking authentic connection.
How can you ever be lost
when the earth knows
where you are?

My greatest joy is belonging, a sparkling jewel at the node of life’s web, Metta embodied, mirroring all life, all of life reflecting me.

The earth knows where I am.

*****

It’s time to send Metta to groups of beings. Who do I want to choose? Releasing the need to know, to have a plan, the first group appears. All those that struggle with sleep.

May you be wide awake when necessary, and sleep well.

Metta is slowly generated for other groups experiencing what I am on retreat in this moment: midback pain from sitting, a chill in the bones from wet, washed hair.

May your back support you. May you feel ease.
May you have shelter and warmth from the cold.

There is also joy: a bright and sunny day outside, unplugged from the Matrix of rushing, performing, stretching till I’m about to break.

Metta is generated for other groups who may not experience this. Prisoners in solitary confinement, persons home bound due to a specific condition, fetuses swirling in an amniotic sea who may never see, feel the light of a bright and sunny day. Parents working two jobs to make ends meet at home, high school students stressing over grades, ACT’s, and SAT’s to make it into a prestigious college promising a home away from home, those who ride the corporate rainbow for a pot of gold at the other end with little chance to unplug.

If you cannot go outside, may you feel the light of love.
If you cannot unplug from the Matrix, may you experience moments of rest.

Like a venn diagram, I sense the overlap among circles of Metta, Karuna, Mudita, Uppekha.

Sensing what is needed within and outside, may I offer it up readily to myself and others, ambrosia of the gods. May I receive it from others when feeling unresourced and overwhelmed.

*****

In a group process, we generate Metta for winged ones, water based ones, four leggeds, and creepy crawlers. Are these just wishes for their safety, wellbeing, ease, and freedom, or will the wishes be actualized?

Taking this inquiry outside into Nature and walking meditation, I walk a straight line back and forth. Thoughts stay logical. So I begin to walk in a circle, spiraling towards a center of creative knowing.

What beings have to die so I can live? How can old patterns in thought, word, and deed die so more creatures might live?

May we continue to ask these questions in reverence for all life, not just our own.

*****

The sun is setting between pine trees, last glimmers of light before the evening talk, before darkness sets in and the outside world encroaches.

So many wonderful moments. What do I want to remember most?

The answer comes in a quote/teaching shared in the evening talk. “Thank you for everything. I have no complaint whatsoever.” (Zen master Sono)

Day 5

I wake up way before the alarm sounds. A jackhammer headache is drilling through the right temple. The throat is slightly sore with some post nasal drip.

Shit! This isn’t how I want the retreat to end!

Thank you for everything. I have no complaint whatsoever.

Are you kidding? I can hear this when the heart is full of Metta. Right now, it’s encased in so much aversion. Gold Buddha? Where are you? Is Sono taunting me or offering freedom? I choose freedom.

In morning meditation, I decide to try lying down in a restorative yoga posture. That’s it Kaveri. Rest.

Her (Jackie Long, founder of Mind Body Moms) words sing to me sweetly.

You are working so hard
You are giving so much love
You are being held by us
By the earth and stars above

You will find your way through this
You will make it through somehow
We all see how strong you are
And we know your ready now

Once again, the lullaby thins the aversion. May the body support me. May I rest deeply. May this practice be for all beings in transition.

*****

We drive to the airport, exchanging reflections of gratitude and awe. My fellow yogi was sitting to my left the whole time in the meditation hall, offering silent support, humor when sharing, and now a gentle ride into an unknown future.

Husband and daughter pick me up from Oakland Airport. They are always there when I need love, when I need to learn. Their eyes, their smiles say it all.

Welcome home.